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10/20/2005 Entry: "Dreaming of French Horns"

Let me say I didn't remember this until Susan got to the "punchline." Then I remembered everything.

Susan: "Do you remember what you said last night?"
Bill: "No, what?"
S. "Well, I rolled over. You sat up, and were looking all around, kinda crazy looking, all confused. I knew then you were dreaming. I said 'What is it?', and you said you needed to turn on the light. So you did. You looked all around. I said 'What is it?' You said 'I know this is going to sound weird, but there was a french horn floating by my bed.'"

Yup. I remember there was this miniature french horn floating between the edge of the bed and the wall. And when I reached out to grab it, I couldn't.

Dream #2, Also Last Night

I was at the church. It was raining. My truck wouldn't start. I decided I'd start walking. I got to the end of Waterman's Beach Road, and my sister was there. She was waiting there to make a drug buy. When I asked why she was buying drugs, she explained she was working a sting operation. So this guy came buy and wanted to sell her some drugs. We grabbed him, and sat him down on the other side of this table. (Where'd the table come from? When did the rain stop? I don't know.) So we're giving him the third degree. I'm looking at his wallet, and I can tell from the crease lines that he normally carried much more stuff in his wallet. "What's normally in here? You're not carrying everything you normally have in here. Where, and what, is it?!" He pulled a sheet of paper from inside his coat and explained. "I'm an FBI agent, and I'm working a sting." Man! We explained we were doing the exact same thing! So we jumped in this car, and started heading down Waterman's Beach. Lisa was driving, the other guy was in the front, and I was alone in the back seat. He went on to explain that fisherman out of Spruce Head were putting drugs in barrels. Not plastic bait barrels like they use now, but old fashioned stave barrels. He explained "They're selling these barrels for $400 a piece, and they're moving three a day. That's $1200 worth of drugs they're shipping out, each and every day." While he's telling us this, I'm pulling skin off my ankle, like I have a sunburn. (Note: in real life, my sister loves to peel skin off a sunburn.) When all of a sudden, I pull of a piece of skin the size of a handkerchief. I hold it up, and say "Lisa, look at this!" While driving, she turns around, and looks in awe.

Then I woke up.